"Going Native," part 5

The next morning, Maggie knew she had to find water.  She figured she could just watch the Tineri and see where they got theirs.  After making her way back to their camp, she watched for a while before some of the women left carrying jugs and basins.  They were clearly headed to the water supply, and Maggie would be close behind.

Of course, Maggie could barely keep up with these women, who could walk faster than almost anyone in spite of the terrain and their bare feet.  Maggie struggled with her leg but her desperation gave her the strength to keep them in sight.

Eventually, they approached a brook.  They set their jugs down and entered to wash themselves.  Maggie wandered upstream a bit until she felt they wouldn’t notice her and did likewise.  She pulled off her boots for the first time in days.  The stench was ripe, and she had a bona fide sock tan line for the first time in her life.  As she lowered her head underwater and drank as much as she could, she began to relax.  A pedicure would be high on her list of priorities when she got back.  Maybe she could simply float down this brook until she got to a town, she figured.

Heated shouting punctured her relaxation.  Looking at the shore, she saw two of the group of Tineri women entering the brook to chase her.  She feebly attempted to escape but was captured in a few seconds and brought to the shore.  

“Please let me go!  I only need to get back to a city!” Maggie pleaded as she was dragged from the water to a third Tineri woman.  Up close, her piercings and scarring were extremely intimidating.  In response to Maggie’s pleas, the woman returned indignant shouting in that sing-songy / clicking language the Tineri spoke.

“I can get you money!  Just let me float down this brook to a town!”  Her words continued to fall on deaf ears.

“Please...I’ll die...I’ll do anything...please…”  

At this point, Maggie fell to her knees.  Her captors let her drop.

Maggie sobbed inconsolately on her own as the three Tineri huddled.  After a minute of apparent argument, one of the two women who had captured Maggie helped her to her feet.  Maggie recognized her as the cock-sucker from the night before.

“Oh my God, thank you so much, I promise ---”

“Shut up, bitch,” the cock-sucker said, in perfect English and with an American accent.  “Here’s the deal -- we helped you yesterday, and you just pushed us aside and left.  We Tineri can’t just let that go.”

“Wait -- how do you speak English?  Are you Americ--”

“Don’t be stupid, bitch.  Listen to me.  I’m telling you what’s going on.  We Tineri can never forgive a foreign bitch who insults us like that.”

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry! I was confused!  I was in shock!  Please forgive me!”

“Shit.  You really do talk too much, you know that?  Just fucking listen, you idiot.  We are a proud but forgiving people.  We can’t forgive a foreign bitch like you, but we always forgive each other.”

“Huh?  I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t.”  The cock-sucker ran her fingers through Maggie’s blonde locks.  The three Tineri laughed.  “I’m telling you, if you want our help - and I can tell you that our help is the only way you’ll survive another day - you’re going to have to join us.”

“Join…?”

“Yes.  Live by our customs.  Become Tineri.”

That didn’t sound so bad to Maggie.  She’d do their trust falls or whatever, gain their trust, then, with their assistance, return to civilization and the life of luxury she had always known.

“Umm.  OK.  What do I have to do?”

“First, this.”  The cock-sucker grabbed the two sides of Maggie’s safari shirt and ripped them open.  Buttons flew everywhere.  The woman threw the rags into the brook. Then, she took the top of the tank top Maggie had on underneath and did likewise, similarly throwing it in the brook.  Finally, she reached between the cups of Maggie’s bra and unclasped it (with a strange ease, considering she lived topless).  The bra too found its way into the brook.

Maggie was as topless as the tribeswomen.  She felt self-conscious about her perky B’s and folded her arms.  The woman firmly unfolded them and the Tineri women laughed.  They took turns poking her breasts and comparing them with their own ample tits, cackling the whole time.  Maggie began to feel nervous.

“We’ll fix your tits, don’t worry,” the woman said, ominously.  “After all, we Tineri don’t wear tops.”

Maggie managed a wan smile, then went over to the edge of the brook to retrieve her boots and socks.  She sat down and began to put them on when the woman interrupted.

“Nope.  We don’t wear shoes or socks either.”  She grabbed one of Maggie’s bare feet and examined it.  “Don’t worry, we’ll fix your feet, too.”

“What does you mean - ‘fix’?”

“I just mean that you’re going to love being a Tineri.  Promise.  In fact, let me introduce you to one of the many pleasures of life in our tribe.”  

She sat on a rock next to Maggie and put her right foot in Maggie’s lap.  The toenails were long to the point of curving, which seemed impractical in light of the fact that they walked around the jungle barefoot all day.  Four of the toes had tight bands of metal around them.  Maggie had seen toe rings before (though she personally found them hideous), but these were far more ornate than what you’d find on an aging yoga instructor in the Valley.  Most striking about the foot, though, was its soft, supple skin - precisely the opposite of what Maggie expected from someone who never wore shoes or visited a nail salon.  The tops were well-moisturized, the dark brown color almost creamy.  The soles had no calluses on them and, in truth, felt like someone had run butter on them minutes earlier.

Maggie looked at her own feet, blistered and angry from days of hiking.  “How are your feet --”

“Shhh,” the woman said, lifting her foot and putting the ball on Maggie’s lips.  “You know what to do.”

Maggie knew this woman expected her to kiss that foot.  The idea of kissing any foot was among the most abhorrent things Maggie could imagine, but this foot had been walking around in a jungle!  And the woman had super long nails and tons of toe rings and the whole thing was sooooo weird and…

"I don't have a foot fetish--" Maggie started.

"Yet." The woman finished the sentence as she shoved her big toe in Maggie’s mouth.  The nail caught the roof.  Maggie winced, then got the idea that there was more of that to come if she didn’t show some enthusiasm.  So, reluctantly and tentatively, Maggie swirled her tongue around the toe.  When the woman indicated that she wanted her second toe sucked as well, Maggie opened her mouth to allow its entry.  Soon, she was holding the foot in front of her face with both hands, running her tongue around and between the toes.  Her attention was fixed on that foot, as she knew that she had to do the necessary to placate these primitives.  She didn’t notice as the Tineri women began to pleasure themselves.

“Hmm… I see what they were saying about having a white girl suck your toes,” the woman said.  “You are going to be very popular with the ladies back at camp.”  

Maggie looked up to see the woman with one hand between her legs, lewdly manipulating her folds, and the other lightly tugging on the huge ring that went through her right nipple.  

“Come,” said the woman, as she placed her other foot behind Maggie’s head and pulled it into her crotch.  “Lick me, white girl.”

With little choice, Maggie stuck her tongue out and licked the small patch of soft, dark, curls.  She had never seen lesbian sex before yesterday, let alone had lesbian sex.  Frankly, the thought disturbed her.  She wasn’t homophobic exactly, but she had a certain notion of what lesbians looked like and did.  And that stereotype didn’t include her.

But today, it did.  She eventually found the woman’s clit and spent several minutes slowly circling it with her tongue.  The taste was mildly acrid, but not as rancid as Maggie expected of someone without a shower.  

The pace of the woman’s breathing accelerated.  Maggie picked up the pace. The woman took Maggie’s left hand and placed it on her nipple ring. Maggie understood that she was supposed to tug on it gently, and so she did.  The woman came violently as she held Maggie’s face into her cunt, making sure Maggie could feel each of her orgasmic convulsions.

“You’re going to be a good cunt eater, white girl.  Say, what’s your name?”

“Maggie,” she said, wiping off her mouth.

“Cool.  I’m M’li.”  Turning to her friends, who were also engaged in some pussy eating, M’li said something in Tineri.  The women nodded.

The four of them stood and began the trek back to camp.  As they walked, Maggie, topless and barefoot, and having sucked her first toes and eaten her first pussy, wondered what she had gotten herself into.